There are stories we should always return to. Many of them have their roots in our childhood or key moments that we have to retrieve from our memories. The ability to return again and again, as a safe place, to the chain of events, words and images that surround our existence. They become the emotional armor that we tear from our own universes. I can’t tell the time, so I suggest the wrong time so that the gestures of memory will have their function on our paths. It’s all an excuse in which the only story that penetrates my present is. He lived in a country that was known as the island of peace. He lived in a country that prided itself on its fertile territory. I lived in a country that loved life.

The engrossed life becomes a constant, and the repetition of acts that threaten coexistence lose its effect. They anesthetize us. It is surprising how we adapt to circumstances, as survival intervenes to keep us from our fields of action. The resentment rarely peaks and we finally turn the page. Most of us reject the violence in which we are immersed, but surprisingly, there is no collective action to reflect our discomfort. We are saddened by the testimonies of relatives of the victims and those who mourn the loss of a loved one every day. Many of us share the national mourning for Fernando Villavicencio. The paradox of the recent elections, often described as “the party of democracy”, frames the tragic present.

I listened with deep admiration to the voices of Tamia and Amanda, daughters of the late presidential candidate Villavicencio. I really appreciate the strength they show, despite the mourning that marked their daily lives. Together, they share their experiences in various interviews, where they explain how, together with their family, life partners and close environment, they deal with the challenge of facing the absence of a father. I can’t stop thinking about them and their father’s legacy, which comes alive in his words.

They recognize that he was a tireless fighter and that, as in the legendary epics, he remained alone. The state gave him up.

In an interview with this media, they mentioned that they are “Villavicencio locomotive engineers”, referring to the important role they play in the present. What impresses the most are the cadences of his words, they reveal resistance and lucidity, and evoke the portrait of an absent fighter. The two sisters reflect their artistic and dedicated vocation. They exchange anecdotes and teachings left to them by their father.

Grief and loss often make us explore self-control options and seek healing. Villavicencio’s daughters sing and write. These choices of repair humanize, reveal the transformative power of words. As Tamia rightly said, “Anger is a precious ground that we can polish to move it, to create art, to cause change…”. Tamia and Amanda constantly emphasize the deep love their father had for his country. They recognize that he was a tireless fighter and that, as in the legendary epics, he remained alone. The state gave him up. (OR)